A team that offered hope... then, four months later, Hamas attacked Israel

Matan Segal led Kick It Out Israel, an anti‑discrimination initiative whose goals mirrored those of the English organisation of the same name but had no formal connection to it, for roughly four years before stepping down a few months ago. Racism has long been embedded in Israeli football, with Beitar Jerusalem’s supporters ranking among the most infamous. In 2013, the club’s ultras set fire to their own offices in protest against the signing of two Chechen Muslims. The most extreme Beitar fans have long taunted Israeli Arabs with chants of “may your colony burn” while proclaiming themselves “forever pure.” During Segal’s tenure at Kick It Out Israel, he observed that hostility toward Arab players grew more virulent and widespread. He identified three contributing factors: the COVID‑19 pandemic, during which fans radicalised online while in lockdown; the election of Israel’s far‑right government at the end of 2022, which lent legitimacy to views toward Palestinians previously regarded as extreme; and the ensuing war. “Before 7 October, radical mostly respected the Arab players,” Segal said. “Even though they had difficulties with them not singing the Israeli anthem, they respected them and they could speak about it.” “After 7 October though, we saw an increase in racist remarks.” “It was happening at tiny clubs where we hadn't seen it before. There were unspeakable songs - 'Let's kill each Arab', 'There are no schools in Gaza because there are no children left'.” Football inevitably became a focal point for the emotions stirred by the conflict. Clubs that are normally bitter rivals united to honour those killed by Hamas. Scarves formed part of the memorial at the Nova music festival site, where hundreds lost their lives. Hapoel Jerusalem’s crest now bears a silhouette of Hersh Goldberg‑Polin, who was abducted and killed in captivity; his parents have campaigned for peace amid their grief. Israeli Defence Force soldiers have been photographed posing with club flags and banners while on duty in Gaza, dedicating their actions to the clubs and ultras back home. In this charged environment, young footballers—closely tied to the national service programme and inundated with online commentary and images—face relentless scrutiny and pressure. Gloukh’s lifelong friend Afik Tery was killed by a Hamas explosive while serving in the IDF. After his death, Gloukh shared a poignant series of pictures showing the pair arm‑in‑arm over the years— as young boys at birthday parties, as young men at a wedding—culminating in an image of Tery’s funeral. Pro‑Palestinian taunts appeared among the online replies. For Israeli players of Palestinian heritage, the stakes are especially perilous. Dia Saba operates in a playmaking role akin to Gloukh’s. The 33‑year‑old has netted three goals in 13 appearances for Israel and is unlikely to add to that total. Saba was one of Maccabi Haifa’s most high‑profile stars when, at the outbreak of the conflict, his wife Narmin posted on Instagram: “There are children in Gaza, too.” Saba apologised for the outrage provoked, yet could not safeguard his career in Israel. He departed Maccabi Haifa in 2025 and now plays for Turkish side Amedspor. “My imagination was to play for Maccabi Haifa, the club that I support, the squad that I grew up with,” Saba said at the time. “I wanted to continue. But sometimes there are reasons that are stronger than us that don't allow it.”